Tell Me It's Not True
by JustAGirl'xo
Summary: Tell me it's not true... Say it's just a story.  How do Jack, Alfie, Kat and Ronnie react to Ronnie's dramatic announcement?  ONESHOT!


**After Ronnie's shock announcement in the backroom of the Vic, what are the first thoughts in the minds of each of the main characters involved in this tragic tale?**  
><strong>Sonfic using the lyrics of the chilling song 'Tell Me It's Not True' from phenominal musical 'Blood Brothers', a song which is guaranteed to send a shiver down your spine. I would recommend that everyone searches this song, you'll soon see what I mean. Also, if you speed-read this fic while the music's playing, it's incredibly sad!<strong>

**So, yeah. I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>"<em>Tell me it's not true. Ron, please, just tell me. He's mine, isn't he? James, he's... He's my boy. He's my son."<em>  
><em>"I'm sorry..."<em>

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><p><em>'Tell me it's not true,<br>Say it's just a story,  
>Something on the news.<em>

_Tell me it's not true,_  
><em>Though it's here before me,<em>  
><em>Say it's just a dream,<em>  
><em>Say it's just a scene,<em>  
><em>From an old movie of years ago,<em>  
><em>From an old movie of Marilyn Monroe.'<em>

He held his head in his hands, a pounding sensation overtaking him. It was as though nothing around him existed; only one thought filled his mind: '_It's just a dream. A horrible nightmare.'_ This sort of thing didn't happen to ordinary people. It was a dramatic news story, something that happened to other people all over the world. But not something that could happen to him. What had he done to deserve this? He'd had it all; a good job, good friends, a beautiful wife... A beautiful baby. How was it fair that something which he had treasured so dearly for the past few months could be taken away from him before he had even had a chance to get his head around the situation? _'Perhaps it's just a mistake,'_ he thought to himself _'One big mistake that's been blown completely out of proportion'_. He looked up. The first thing that he laid eyes on was a photograph. A photograph taken on the day that baby James had been born. He hadn't been there at the time, he had been working in Dubai, something which he regretted greatly. Maybe if he had been around, this whole nightmare would never have happened. Still staring at the photograph, he let out a deep sigh. He wanted somebody, anybody, to burst into the room and tell him that it was all one big misunderstanding. Tell him that he actually was James's father, and he and Ronnie could get their lives back on track again. James didn't belong with Kat and Alfie. It couldn't be true...

_'Say it's just some clowns,  
>Two players in the limelight,<br>And bring the curtain down._

_Say it's just two clowns,_  
><em>Who couldn't get their lines right,<em>  
><em>Say it's just a show on the radio,<em>  
><em>That we can turn over and start again,<em>  
><em>That we can turn over; it's only a game.'<em>

He shivered as he felt the ice-cold water touch his skin. He ran his hands over his face, trying to wash all of the trauma and revelations of that evening away. He had always longed for a child, a mini-Moon. Although he had not been Tommy's biological father, he had loved him and treated him as his own. The day of his death seemed like years ago; it was the past, and they had only just managed to pick themselves up and start again. But now the past was returning to haunt them. They had thought that they had buried the tragedy and had tried to forget. But the heartbreak was back, and, if Ronnie's claims were true, the last four months of hell would have all been for nothing. Alfie looked at his reflection in the mirror. His expression was emotionless – it was as though he had aged ten years within the space of a couple of hours. He knew that, if James turned out to be his son, his Tommy, it would mean more months of pain as he and Kat opened old wounds which they had believed to be healing. They had just begun to start afresh. He shook his head at his reflection.  
>"Tell me it's not true..."<p>

_'Tell me it's not true,  
>Say I only dreamed it,<br>And morning will come soon._

_Tell me it's not true,_  
><em>Say you didn't mean it,<em>  
><em>Say it's just pretend,<em>  
><em>Say it's just the end,<em>  
><em>Of an old movie from years ago,<em>  
><em>From an old movie with Marilyn Monroe.'<em>

A fresh tear formed in her grey eyes. She hastily wiped it away, careful not to smudge her mascara. As soon as she had heard Ronnie speak those five formidable words, her heart seemed to stop. _'This isn't James, it's Tommy...'_. The colour and life had drained from her eyes. She knew that Ronnie had had some difficulties lately, but nobody could be sick enough to make up something like that. She glanced at the baby who was with her in the room, propped up in Tommy's old chair. She quickly looked away again, unwilling to allow the wall that she had built up since New Year's Day to been broken down by the look of innocence in the child's eyes. He was lucky that he didn't know what was going on. She stared at the mug of tea on the table in front of her. More importantly, the mug. The words across the front of it. _'Mummy'_. She smiled sadly. Alfie had bought it for her the day that Tommy had been born. Before they had both been thrown into emotional turmoil. It was cruel enough that she had been forced to cope with the tragic death of her newborn baby. But now she was being told that the baby she had grieved for may still be alive.  
>"Somebody up there hates me," she muttered to herself, gazing up at the kitchen ceiling. Anger was beginning to build up in inside her.<br>"How dare she," Kat continued, suddenly livid, "how dare she storm in here and make my life hell with only five stupid, pathetic little words!" She furiously pushed the mug away, sending it flying across the room and causing it to smash into a thousand tiny pieces. A bit like the pieces of her heart. She broke down and sobbed.  
>"Why me?" she howled, "<em>Why me<em>?" She prayed that soon she would wake up and realise that the whole evening had been a brutal nightmare. It would mean that everything that Ronnie had said wasn't true...

'_Tell me it's not true  
>Say you didn't mean it.<br>Say it's just pretend  
>Say it's just the end<br>Of an old movie from years ago  
>From an old movie with Marilyn Monroe.'<em>

Prison. Just another thing that she would have to get used to. She would be spending an awful lot of time there in the near-future. But at least now she could stop feeling so cruel. She smiled slightly. Yes, she had done the right thing. James- or Tommy, as he should rightfully be known, could be with his real parents. Jack could move on with his life. And she, Ronnie, could stop feeling so goddamn blameworthy every time she saw Kat's face. Prison was what she deserved; she had done a terrible crime, but now she could make everything okay again. The thought of being without her baby still killed her inside. She knew that this pain would never disappear. No matter how much everybody despised her for what she had done, and however much people protested that she was lying, she knew that every word she had said that night had been the truth. Every last word. Whether people believed her was their decision. Tommy was Kat's baby, not Ronnie's, not Jack's, not anybody else's. This fact would affect the lives of many people. But at least it was the truth. And truth hurts.


End file.
